Moved (#Wattys2014)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Friendship sucked.  Lying on my stomach, I glanced at my bedside clock as another round of knocking echoed through the apartment.  Five in the morning.  Was this revenge?  We’d stayed up until one watching movies.

“Oh, just come in already,” I called loud enough so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed and open the door.

A few moments later, he stood in my room.

“Your dad called me.  He’s wondering why you haven’t called yet.”

“You’re kidding, right?”  I lifted my head to glare at him.  “We were together all night.  Didn’t you say that?”

He gave me a look.  “No.”

I sighed.  “Phone me,” I said, holding out my hand.

Racer handed me my phone, which was on the nightstand, and gave me a grin as I squinted at the numbers to dial.  He was enjoying this too much.  As soon as it started to ring, I laid my head back on the pillow.

“Gillian,” my dad said instead of hello.

“Hey, Dad.  No lectures, please.  It’s five a.m.  I’m fine.  Alive and breathing.  Just not fully awake.  Regular call schedule again, ‘K?”

He gave a relieved sigh.  “I’ll call you tonight after work.”

“Thanks, Dad.  Love you.”  I hung up the phone and dropped it on the floor, letting my arm dangle off the bed.  My eyes had remained closed throughout the conversation.

“Does this mean no early morning self-defense practice?”

I lifted my hand to point in the general direction of the door.  Racer chuckled as he left.

By ten, I was up, showered, dressed, and ready for some shed time.  I moseyed down the stairs and saw Racer’s door open.

“Knock, knock.”

“Come in,” he called from somewhere within.

“I’m heading to the shed for a run.”

Pulling a shirt over his head, he stepped out of his bedroom.  The brief glimpse of abs and happy trail made my mouth go dry.

“I’ll be ready in just a minute,” he said as he moved past me.

He bent, grabbed his shoes, and sat in a chair to put them on.  The whole time I stared.  Yummy had been hiding under a layer of cranky-pants.  I really hoped I would see less frowning and more abs from now on.

Robotically, I followed him out the door.  I studied him.  Really studied.  His hoodie, loose pants, and frown had hidden the truth from me.  A gorgeous guy in the guise of a good looking guy.  And I’d flashed him.  A blush heated my cheeks.  My abs liked to play hide and seek behind the bowls of Ben and Jerry’s in which I occasionally indulged.  He had an eight pack.  I had a flat, soft one pack.  Surely he hadn’t noticed that, though.  I mean, when it came to boobs, men had tunnel vision...right?

I took a few steady breaths and stepped into the shed.  When he took off his shoes, I knew I was about to suffer through another self-defense lesson.  I wrinkled my nose, and he caught my look.

“Five minutes,” he promised.

“Of butt-kicking,” I said.  My butt.  He smiled at me as I kicked off my shoes and joined him on the mat.

“I’m Chuck.”  That was all he said before he roughly grabbed my shirt and pulled me toward him.  My hands flew up to brace for impact, and I collided with his hard chest.  This wasn’t going to work.  I stared at him while my fingers and palms memorized the planes onto which they remained glued.